As the convoy of captives marched to within ten miles of Jicheng, scouts reported that the Prince's honor guard and a host of officials were already waiting to welcome them.
Xiao Shaojin immediately broke away from the main group, taking his Iron Pagoda bodyguards to a temporary pavilion set up by the Prince's household.
Lin Huaijue, now back in his own clothes—which Xiao Shaojin had hacked into ragged shorts with a knife—had to ride on. He was embarrassed, not by his attire, but by the report Xiao Shaojin had sent ahead to the Governor—Lin's own father.
In the report, Lin Huaijue was a hero. It claimed the Governor's son had "used his own body as bait," feigning capture to coordinate an inside-outside strike with Generals Yan and Han.
Lin knew he had done nothing but identify a jade pendant. Yet, he dared not contradict the narrative. He buried his head low as he rode.
Inside the private pavilion, Xiao Shaojin wasted no time. He stripped naked and dove into a prepared wooden tub.
He grabbed a bar of sheep-fat soap and began scrubbing furiously. He was enjoying the hot water when the curtain was ripped open.
"Is my son safe?! Is my son hurt?!"
Xiao Hong, the Prince of Dongqi, stormed in. He grabbed Xiao Shaojin out of the water like a wet cat, inspected him from head to toe, and then dropped him back in with a splash.
Ignoring his own expensive robes getting soaked, Xiao Hong grabbed the soap and started scrubbing his son's back.
"Relax, Old Xiao. I've got everything under control," Xiao Shaojin patted his father's massive shoulder. "I have big things to tell you later. But first, scrub my back. I've sweated through a dozen layers of clothes today. I stink."
Xiao Hong picked up a handful of white bath beans—a luxury paste made from imported Western spices—and began washing his son's face.
As he scrubbed, the Prince paused. The boy's chubby face was sharpening. His bone structure was emerging, and those long, narrow phoenix eyes looked exactly like his mother's.
Xiao Hong froze, lost in memory.
Splash!
Xiao Shaojin threw a handful of water at him. "Old Xiao, you're about to feed me the soap. What are you thinking about?"
Xiao Hong turned away to wipe his face. "Nothing. Just... suddenly missed your mother."
Xiao Shaojin's expression turned serious. "Dad. As long as Mom is alive, and we are alive, we will be reunited. Leave this to me. Trust me."
Xiao Hong, the terrifying Warlord of the North, felt tears welling up. Who would believe that a single sentence from his twelve-year-old son could make him cry?
Xiao Shaojin looked at his father's broad back and felt a surge of protectiveness. He was too young, too weak. He needed to grow up faster.
"Come on, Old Dad. Don't cry. If you cry yourself ugly, Mom won't want you anymore."
"You little brat," Xiao Hong sniffled, laughing. "I was just a rough soldier back then. Your mother was a heavenly talent from a scholarly family. Why do you think she chose me? It was entirely because of your dad's handsome face and this tiger-like physique!"
Xiao Shaojin laughed, not bothering to argue with his father's narcissism.
In truth, even the civil officials who hated Xiao Hong had to admit he was magnificent. Eight feet tall, eyes like blades, a body like a bear. Legend said his roar on the battlefield could scare enemy horses into collapsing. During the chaotic years of the founding of the Huachao Dynasty, his shout in the Imperial Palace supposedly made palace eunuchs within thirty feet wet their pants and faint.
Xiao Shaojin knew his dad hadn't reached the legendary Heavenly Realm of martial arts yet, but his unique breathing techniques made him terrifying enough.
"Old Xiao," Shaojin asked as maids helped him dress. "Did you read my two reports?"
"I did," Xiao Hong replied, changing out of his wet robes. "Your decisions were flawless. We can discuss the details with your tutors later. At this rate, you'll be ready to take full command of the Border Army in four or five years."
"I need to enter seclusion," Xiao Shaojin said seriously. "I need to open the Daoist Inner Mirror State. It is the key to my future plans."
Xiao Hong patted his son's shoulder. "No rush. I've been too hard on you. That's something for sixteen-year-olds. Take your time."
"Dad, I have no complaints," Shaojin smiled bitterly. "I awakened my Literary Heart at three, when others do it at seven. I studied the Ghost Valley Arts at nine, when others start at twenty. I can open the Inner Mirror early, too. I just need to ask my tutor for the key."
"That's my son!" Xiao Hong laughed proudly. "We will flip this losing chess board yet! Now, I'm going out to reward the troops. You just play the spoiled brat. We chose the path of the Lone Ruler; we must make those spies and civil officials feel 'safe' about my incompetent heir."
Outside Jicheng, the scene was grand. Pavilions stretched for miles.
At the main gate, two golden tables sat on a raised platform. Above them, a massive banner embroidered with a dragon entering the sea displayed the golden characters: DONGQI.
Xiao Hong and Xiao Shaojin emerged.
The Prince followed protocol: a nod for green-robed officials, a bow for red-robes, and a few words of chat for the purple-robes.
Xiao Shaojin, however, played his part. He slapped officials on the shoulder, yanked the beards of the elderly, and blatantly ignored anyone he found ugly.
While Shaojin was busy stealing a feather fan from a confused official, Xiao Hong grabbed the hand of the new Governor, Lin Shimo.
"Brother Lin! Brother Lin!" Xiao Hong dragged the reluctant Governor toward the high platform. "I never knew your son had such guts! A true young general! I read the report—young Huaijue should switch to martial arts! Your eldest is a scholar in the Capital; if your second becomes a general, the Lin family will have both pen and sword! How beautiful!"
Lin Shimo felt a headache coming on. He had met Xiao Hong twice, strictly on business. This "Brother Lin" nonsense was unbearable.
"The Prince praises him too much," Lin Shimo bowed stiffly. "The credit belongs to Generals Han and Yan. I am just glad my dog-son is alive. Please do not praise him, lest he become arrogant and neglect his studies."
"Governor Lin looks down on us rough soldiers, naturally," Xiao Hong laughed loudly, not letting go. "My arrogance is just a trick to scare Barbarians. The Emperor is wise to use a brute like me. If the Court didn't need me to guard the border, who would want to live with their head tied to their belt?"
Hypocrite, Lin Shimo thought. You live like an Emperor here.
"Please, Your Highness, take the seat of honor," Lin Shimo deflected coldly.
Xiao Hong didn't mind. Civil officials never pissed in the same pot as him anyway. He took the center seat.
Xiao Shaojin, holding a pile of stolen jade accessories, lay down on a side table, crossed his legs, and summoned two beautiful maids to fan him.
Lin Shimo watched with a cold sneer. A useless silk-pants. No wonder the Court fears the Prince less these days. With a son like this, the Dongqi line will end in ruin.
He thought of his own eldest son, a Secretary in the Imperial Secretariat. In a few years, when I enter the Grand Cabinet, the Lin family will control the civil court. He looked at his second son, Lin Huaijue, with a gaze of pity.
The banquet began. Officers bowed to Xiao Hong.
Lin Shimo felt uneasy. The young generals in Youzhou were sprouting like bamboo after rain. They were fierce and loyal only to Xiao Hong.
Xiao Hong began the rewards. He promoted Han Zhong and Yan Chuanzhi. Then, he dropped a bombshell.
"I grant both Generals the Right of Independent Recruitment!"
The civil officials buzzed with whispers, but no one dared object.
Lin Shimo was furious. Independent recruitment? That allows them to build private armies! The Prince is preparing for rebellion!
Before Lin could speak, Xiao Hong called Lin Huaijue forward. Lin Shimo tried to stand up to intervene, but General Yan Chuanzhi "accidentally" stepped on his sleeve, pinning him down.
"Master Lin," Xiao Hong boomed. "Your contribution was great. Money is too vulgar for a Governor's son. So, how about this?"
Xiao Hong stood up, drawing the sword at his waist as he strode toward the boy.
"Your Highness! Stop!" Lin Shimo screamed.
Xiao Hong ignored him. He walked straight to Lin Huaijue and shoved the sword into the boy's hands.
Lin Huaijue trembled, nearly dropping it.
"Hold it tight!" Xiao Hong roared. "If a man cannot hold a three-foot sword, what can he hold?!"
The shout shocked Lin Huaijue into stillness. He gripped the hilt firmly.
He looked down. The sword bore the mark of the Previous Dynasty's Imperial Clan. The blade had a pattern like a swimming dragon, reflecting a chilling blue light even under the summer sun.
"This is the Soaring Wyrm Sword," Xiao Hong smiled satisfied. "The Emperor gave it to me years ago. I want you to have it. Even if you walk the path of the scholar, you must have a strong body."
Xiao Hong returned to his seat.
Lin Huaijue stood there, stunned.
"Master Lin, thank him!" Xiao Shaojin shouted from his table. "I begged my dad for that sword for years!"
Lin Huaijue bowed deeply. Beside him, his father ground his teeth in rage.
Xiao Hong raised his cup. "Drink with me! To the sons of the Border!"
"MOUNTAIN CALL!" Han Zhong roared.
Under the shocked gaze of Governor Lin, his own son raised the Soaring Wyrm Sword, dancing and shouting along with the soldiers:
"WIND! WIND! WIND!"